After The End
by ChilliLemons
Summary: Breaking up is only the beginning of their story. (An alternate version of my other story, Bildungsroman) SanadaOC.
1. The End

**Chapter one**

 **So, in this alternate version of Bildungsroman, Sakura is in Rikkai High School, and in the same year as Sanada. Currently, they're in their third and final year. Sakura spent her middle school years in Seigaku, and has been playing tennis since early elementary school. She's currently the captain of Rikkai's tennis team. No real connection to any of the Seigaku regulars from the canon.**

 **Like, literally the only similarity between this and Bildungsroman (as it stands now) is her last name.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PoT.  
**************************************************

It wasn't immediately apparent to Rikkai's student population that the boys' tennis vice-captain and the girls' tennis captain had ended their famous relationship. They hadn't been the couple that spent every possible moment together, to provoke a flurry of speculation the moment they were seen more than five metres apart.

So by and large, the student body didn't take any especial notice when Sakura came to school unaccompanied, nor when Sanada didn't wait for her after morning practice concluded. Neither occurrence was particularly unusual, for they were, after all, very busy people.

The tennis teams, however, took one look at Sakura's set shoulders, and Sanada's tight jaw, and _knew_.

"So who dumped whom?" Vice-captain Sumiko asked, shutting her door on the almost-overfilled locker.

Sakura paused in the act of braiding her hair for a moment. "It was mutual." She said quietly.

Sumiko scoffed. "'Scuse me if I can't really see Sanada saying he wanted to break up with you. Been in that boy's class nearly five years and never seen him so besotted."

"Well," Sakura finished looping the scrunchie around the tail of her braid. She picked up her bag. "That's not what happened, but it was mutual. I said and he accepted."

Sumiko snorted. "Sakura, honey, that's called dumping."

"Sumiko, _please._ "

The plea in her friend's voice gave Sumiko pause. Sakura's cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes were shining the tiniest amount. "I'm trying to keep it together here. And you're really not helping." Her shoulders were minutely trembling now. "I don't want to have to deal with this more than I have to- so please, _please_ shut up."

Sumiko looked down, abashed. "Sorry." She muttered. "Foot-in-mouth. Insensitive, that's me. Won't happen again." She scuffed the ground with the toe of her shoe.

Without a word, Sakura locked the clubhouse, and the two girls walked away.

* * *

"Fifty laps, now!" Sanada roared at a couple of unfortunate couple of freshmen who'd taken an unsanctioned water break. They dropped their racquets where they stood and began running.

"Ten and eleven, there he goes again." Niou muttered, to Yagyuu as they switched courts.

"Kagawa ended things, then?" Yagyuu asked as quietly as possible.

"Must have, _he'd_ never dump her." Niou replied.

They watched as Yanagi wandered over to Sanada and attempted to… say something. Comfort him. Whatever it was, Sanada merely gestured him onto an empty court.

"I really wouldn't wanna be Yanagi-senpai right now, for sure." Kirihara whispered in terror to Marui.

Marui chewed and nodded. "Fukubuchou's going to- I don't know words violent enough for it, actually."

"Why'd she do it anyway?" Kirihara wondered. "I mean, he was soppy about her." _Dumb girl_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he _liked_ Kagawa-senpai, she was smart and played some good tennis. In her best moods, she could- if he was honest- kick his ass. It was annoying as hell. But she was _nicer_ than most of his senpais.

But what kind of girl could possibly dump _Sanada-fukubuchou_ , more specifically a Sanada-fukubuchou who was- he grimaced- head over heels for her? It wasn't a very _smart_ thing to do, to say the least.

He was surprised when Marui gave a look that was almost pitying. "What?" He asked defensively.

Marui sighed. "Yeah, he was, but to be honest, Akaya," He shrugged, and sighed again. "Most of us kinda saw it coming, y'know?"

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Sanada Genichirou was not dense, asexual or in love with his captain. He was just very particular as to preference, and excellent at filtering out what did not suit him.

Kagawa Sakura was not the type of woman to back down from pursuing something she wanted.

It really shouldn't have surprised anyone when they got together in their second year of high school, but it did.

What happened _after_ , however, was something of a story.

* * *

Sakura fidgeted with her tissue, trying to both look at the man across her and avoid his eyes. Not an easy task, but easier than what they were here for.

She took a sip of her lemonade, just so as to stall further.

"You meant it, then, what you said on the phone?"

He had _terrible_ timing; half the lemonade went down the wrong pipe. She coughed and coughed, and her eyes watered.

He made an aborted movement; for a moment he looked like he was going to rub her back.

When she surfaced from the fit, her eyes were red and watering, and she kept having to clear her throat.

"W-what?" _Oh_ , she remembered. _Oh, he asked-_

"Yes. I- yes, I did." Her voice was hoarse.

His hands clenched on the table. Her fingers twisted the tissue in her lap to shreds.

"Why?" He bit out. He wasn't looking at her, rather at a spot in the region of her collarbone.

"It's not- this is- it's for the best, Ge- it's better, for both of us." She said, leaning forward, trying desperately to catch his eye.

 _Please,_ she thought, _please look at me. Please see that this hurts, I'm hurting, we're both hurting and-_

But he wouldn't look, and she was breaking, but could she blame him?

"Is this what's best for you?" He asked. His voice was low, lower than it had ever been.

Sakura swallowed.

 _Eight months we've been together, and the last four we've spent fighting because we barely talk. Or barely talking because we're so busy. Or sleeping because between food and work it's all we can do. And then we feel guilty and angry and resentful and then more guilty, and this is not what a relationship should be like. This wasn't how we were supposed to be, but this is what we've come to. And I don't know-_

"I don't know." She said honestly. "But I do know how things have been between us for a while, and that's," Her voice broke, just a little. "That's not what I want. In a relationship. I can't go on like this. So I'm… I'm sorry, Sanada-kun, but I think we'd best end this."

Oh, she was _hurting_ him. She knew it, could see it; it was in the way his brows contracted to nearly meet in the middle of his forehead, the way his lips were pressed tightly together, and in the tight line of his shoulders and the set of his back. She was hurting him and it was _breaking_ her.

"Fine." He spat. "We're done then."

His voice simmered with venom, with hurt, and she wanted to reach across and take his hand. Tangle her fingers with his own and give him what comfort she could, but that- that really wasn't an option now, and there was a hard lump lodged in her throat, and it was best that she get _away_ from him- from all this, from this _thing_ that had crumbled around them.

She wasn't as expressive as he was; it took more effort than usual, though, to beat back the tears that rose to her eyes. Tucking forty yen under her glass, she rose.

Her voice was stilted. "I'll see you in school."

He nodded; she nodded in reply, not that he noticed, and turned away, hurrying to the door of the café.

It was pouring with rain outside, and she didn't have an umbrella. A second's hesitation, but then her eyes cut back to his, and she wrenched the door open and rushed out. Her head was bowed against the fury of the downpour, and tears mingled with the rain on her face.

Sanada slumped in his chair; his forehead slowly came to rest on the edge of the table.

It was raining on the day that they broke up.

 **Review!**

 **Chilli.**


	2. Fall In, Fall Out

**After The End**

 **Chapter two**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PoT.  
************************************************

By the time the rest of the student body caught on, a week had passed, and the two in question were poised in the eye of the storm.

But no matter how well Sakura schooled her features, she often found herself teetering on the brink of snapping.

Whispers followed her _everywhere_. She could feel the predatory gaze of the multitude boring into her back as she walked the corridors, or as she took her seat in the cafeteria.

"Do you _mind_?" She ground out at a couple of second-years who had been alternately whispering and staring.

Alarmed, they scampered off. Sumiko grimaced. "You'd think they had nothing better to talk about." She said.

"It's worse than when we got together." Sakura muttered, slumping in her seat.

Sumiko snorted with laughter, remembering.

* * *

" _They're DATING."_

" _NO WAY."_

" _Yeah, I know, I thought he was gay too!"_

" _Imagine how poor Yukimura-senpai must feel!"_

 _Sanada twitched, clearly having caught that. Sakura giggled and patted his hand. "I had no idea I was breaking something up, I'm sorry."_

 _He turned the slightest amount to look at her; behind his back, Kirihara mimed vomiting into his lunch at the look in fukubuchou's eyes._

" _You destroyed the yaoi fantasy, Sakura, how could you?" Sumiko waggled a finger at her. Sanada gave her a disturbed look. "What_ fantasies _?" He asked, not sure he'd like the answer._

" _Oh, you know," Sakura pretended to think, taking the moment to weave her fingers into his. Jackal kicked an increasingly 'nauseous' Kirihara under the table, and the latter yelped. "The ones about your torrid on-court /off-court affair with your_ gorgeous _captain?"_

 _Sumiko laughed loudly. "Come on Sanada, you haven't heard of them?"_

" _Some are pretty popular, aren't they?" Yukimura offered. Sanada's eyes almost bugged out. "There was one I heard in middle school; I believe it involved a rather creative method of using the tennis net… that was by far the most popular. There were even illustrations, I've heard, but I've never seen them."_

 _While the rest of the team tried to process-_

" _Oh,_ that _one! Yeah, those were_ great _pictures."_

" _ **What?**_ _"_

 _Sakura couldn't contain her laughter any longer; she threw her head back and peals burst from her throat._

 _Kirihara couldn't help being violently 'sick' again, even if he got the shit kicked out of his ankle by Jackal. The way Sanada-fukubuchou drew Kagawa-senpai's hand up to his lips was just... ugh._

 _The whispers sounded like a million hissing snakes around them, and Sakura flushed at the sound._

* * *

Sakura's smile died slowly from her face. "Let's go to class, Sumi." She suggested in the quietest voice Sumiko had ever heard her use.

Her friend said nothing, only linked arms with her as they left the café as quickly as they could.

She wasn't going to ask; she didn't need to. Sumiko had had a front-row seat to the entire freaking opera that Sakura's relationship with Sanada had been. The girl was almost obsessively private, but she'd opened up in fits and starts to Sumiko, over the course of two years, and considering that she'd known Sanada since middle school, she'd been uniquely placed to offer advice and a window into his world at times.

Sumiko wasn't exactly _surprised_ per se, but she _was_ upset. She liked Sanada, poker-faced stickler that he was, and even without his revolting habit of staring at his (now-ex) girlfriend, it was pathetic how obvious his feelings were. He wasn't as concerned with hiding PDA as Sakura was either; he never cared who was around when he kissed her, or held her hand, or whatever. It had thrown Sakura a little bit, at first- "It's so _embarrassing!_ " she'd squeaked to Sumiko at one point- but then, she'd planted a big one on him after the district finals, so that'd grown on her too.

So Sumiko felt kinda bad for him, yeah. He'd be devastated- she was a little impressed he'd come to school at all today. But if she were to be utterly truthful, she'd been expecting it for a while now.

Kind of like waiting for the clouds to burst and that horrendous downpour to soak you through before you can get home.

"Do you think I should've been a bit more patient with him?" Sakura suddenly asked her.

Sumiko took a second to swallow her surprise at Sakura asking her such a self-examinatory question, then to swallow her rice ball.

"I think you were plenty patient." She replied.

"But I could've waited- maybe taken the time to see-" Sakura was clearly going through that post-breakup phase where she questioned everything. Sumiko took her hands and squeezed them. "Maybe. But if we're talking 'could-haves', there's never going to be an end to those." She said, her low voice gentle. "Personally, I think you took a decision based on what you want from a boyfriend, naturally. That's why it's _your_ decision. There's no good or bad or wrong decision, because it's a choice you make based on certain data and criteria that you have."

"It's the effects of the decision that make people think it was right or wrong, and the thing about a breakup is that everyone's gonna be miserable for a while, so it's gonna look like a bad decision. You feel like shit, so you're wondering if you could've done this in a way to make you feel less like shit. Or maybe you could've not done it, that way you wouldn't have felt shitty at all. But you never know the effects of a decision until you take it, so there's no point going there."

Sakura was gazing at her without saying a word, and Sumiko ploughed on. "The thing is, you took that decision for a reason. A set of reasons, whatever. And those are valid, s'long as they're yours, which they were. Now remember that, and stick your decision. You took that decision _knowing_ it would hurt you; don't start questioning yourself because of it. You could be happy later, and you wanted to be, so stick to it now."

Her words hung in the air, Sakura not speaking, and Sumiko quickly grew uncomfortable. "Yeah, that's… yeah. What I think."

Sakura bowed her head, and Sumiko's heart stopped, _oh shit she's crying_ \- but then she looked up again, and her eyes were bright with humour.

"Did you grow up when I was off making out with Genichirou behind the clubhouses?" She snorted, and something in Sumiko's chest loosened.

* * *

Her parents' old room was locked, as per usual. Sakura turned her face away and marched on to her room.

Yusuke was there, as expected, and the sight of her baby brother brought a helpless smile to her face. She tossed her bag onto the bed and crouched down by him. The boy sagged back against her bent knees without moving his eyes from the Rubik's cube in his hands.

Pride burgeoned in Sakura's heart. She'd never been able to solve that, but here was her brother, all of five, and _he_ could. Any big sister would be proud.

"Oh, Sakura-san!" The babysitter, Ayumi, had been in the kitchen when Sakura had gotten home. "I didn't hear you come in!"

Sakura gave her a wink. "No worries, Ayumi, I'm practising my cat-steps." She winked. Ayumi rolled her eyes and sat down with two cups of cocoa. "I saw you in the kitchen, anyway."

"Would you like some cocoa? I made extra."

"Nah, just had practice. Water's what I need." She indicated the bottle on her bed. "Has my baby been good?" She ran a hand through his black hair.

Ayumi beamed. "He's been absolutely no trouble at all! Really, I've never had such an easy time babysitting a five year old!" She took a sip of cocoa. Sakura grinned. "I'm glad, but I'd also advise you to wait till he gets used to you. Regular nightmare, he is." That earned her a reproachful look from the boy- but he cuddled closer to her at the same time. She slung an arm round him.

Ayumi watched them, a wistful little smile. "If you don't mind my saying, Sakura-san, I think it's great how you manage to juggle school and tennis, and still make time for Yusuke-kun. Not many could manage it."

A bittersweet bubble rose in Sakura's throat. "My mother taught me how to manage my time." She murmured, looking away. "After she– well, she taught me pretty well, anyway. And Yu-chan's very co-operative– most of the time, hmm?" She ruffled his black hair. He twitched his head in annoyance, and she chuckled, stopping. The expression on Ayumi's face gave her pause. "Everything okay, Ayumi?"

The other girl might be in college, but she seemed a little on the young side. Now she shook her head with an embarrassed laugh. "Nothing, really. It's stupid– I just- I miss my family when I see you two."

"That's not stupid." Sakura replied, placing a hand on Ayumi's gingerly. "I miss my father, even though he's done this job for years. I miss my mother- god, I miss her so much, and I wish Yusuke could have known her. I miss–" _My ex-boyfriend, even though I didn't love him and I was the one dumped him_.

She cleared her throat. "Everyone misses their family."

 _I miss Genichirou, but I don't regret it. I can't_.

 **So! Chapter two is d-o-n-e! Reviews are welcomed and cherished!**

 **Cheers,  
Chilli.**


	3. Being Captain

**After The End**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis, which belongs to Takeshi Konomi. Any OCs you see are mine, though, and I will fight you to the death for them.**

* * *

Sakura wasn't one for poetry- certainly not English poetry. But Robert Frost made a fair point about life: it goes on.

She knew it, intimately. When Mama had died, Sakura and Papa had pieced together their broken hearts almost immediately, in order to care for her newborn baby. In all honesty, between schoolwork and changing diapers, Sakura thought she'd done a better job of coping. Her father still avoided the room he'd shared with his wife, keeping it locked at all times, preferring to sleep in the guest room when he was home on the weekends. The sight of Yusuke seemed to simultaneously delight and depress him; when Yusuke, who would never know his mother, tilted his head just so to the right and smiled, Sakura's heart clenched at the love, longing, and raw loss reflected in her father's eyes.

Papa had had to go back to work after a measly month of mourning; Sakura, while admittedly juggling her studies, the pain of losing her mother, and almost sole care of a newborn, had had time, space, and staunch support from her friends to tide her over the worst of it.

All the same, she wished that her father had taken a job in Tokyo after Mama had died. No 14 year-old should have had to handle the responsibilities she had. It was a shameful thought; she wasn't proud of it.

Papa was doing everything for them- her law school dreams weren't cheap, and neither was a baby- and here she was, secretly wishing he'd done _more_.

" _Don't apologise for your feelings."_ _Genichirou's voice was a comforting hum over the whirring of the air conditioner. She felt his words rumble through her body as they cuddled on her couch. The kiss he pressed to her shoulder, slow and long, scared her a little. It was acceptance. Like she could tell him anything, and he'd drop that self-same kiss there, that same touch of acceptance._

Right, not such a secret, then. Another pang shot through her at the thought of Gen- Sanada. _Sanada_. She'd have to get used to calling him what everybody else did.

Even without him, life went on. A month had passed, and as Sakura looked around the courts in a lax moment during practice, she allowed herself a tiny smile.

She wasn't okay. But she was dealing.

The ball brushed by her ankle. "Don't let me interrupt you, _captain_." Akari, their second year ace, called. To add insult to injury, the younger girl flashed her a cheeky smile.

Sakura narrowed her eyes and settled into the receiver stance. As Akari tossed the ball skyward, the smile became a grin.

Dealing was good.

* * *

There were times when Sakura was sorely tempted to abuse her authority. Just a little. Remove the mandatory ankle weights… surely captaincy had _some_ perks. Like bending her own rules?

"Oh, shut up." Sumiko snorted. She poked the slumped captain with a pencil. "Get up, you have to turn in the DebSoc piece in five."

Sakura sat bolt upright, then relaxed as she dived into her bag. "Thought I'd left it at home." She muttered, retrieving and opening a file. "Man, why did I think I could handle _all_ of this?"

"Because you're an overachieving bitch who makes the rest of us look bad." Sumiko said pleasantly. Her pencil moved steadily over the sheet of paper. "No! When I've finished!" She snapped, shielding the work from a nosy Sakura.

"Fine, cranky. Still," Sakura scanned her writing swiftly, eyes darting to and fro on the page. "At least I've got more time now that Sanada and I are done."

"Hmm." Sumiko was deep in her sketch-world. Sakura shook her head fondly and turned to go.

And stopped cold when she saw Sanada standing by the door.

 _At least I've got more time now that Sanada and I are done._

That sounded… bad.

He wasn't even looking at her, busy talking to Koji-kun, but Sakura knew that set of his shoulders. He'd heard.

And he was hurt.

The thought of his pain- more than what she'd already given him- made a funny taste rise at the back of her throat. Not good-funny, either.

Someone cleared their throat, and Sakura started, stammered an apology, and scurried out.

The DebSoc president, Hoshigawa, rumbled like a discontented volcano. "Always in the nick of time." He frowned at her, taking the proffered file. Sakura bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Your time management sucks, Kagawa."

"I got _matches_ , and a _baby_. And I met the deadline, quit being a grump." She retorted.

"Yusuke-kun isn't a _baby_." Hoshigawa pointed out. Sakura did actually laugh out loud at this. "You sound _just_ like him, Hoshi-san." The surly look she received only made her smile. "I gotta run, or I'll be late for class. Email me any corrections, and I'll see you at the meeting on Wednesday."

He only grunted, but that was assent. Wednesday it was.

But for now- _class_. She could see Murakami-sensei rounding the corner ahead of her- Sakura broke into a run.

 _Owww, my legs- fuck, fuck, fuck-_ She glared at the classroom door, wishing it would move towards her.

"Oof!" She slammed into a much larger body, not having noticed anything but the door and the teacher's impending entrance. And some unsuspecting bystander had been mowed down.

She still couldn't be late. Murakami wasn't particularly fond of her, and in all fairness, tardiness (except after morning practice- in very exceptional cases) wasn't really excusable. Sakura disentangled herself from the mess of limbs she'd landed in- not stopping to look at her victim- and ducked behind them. "Sorry, really sorry!" She called over her shoulder. Some boy- oh, thank god, the _door_! She yanked it open, and slipped inside.

Sensei followed, right on her heels.

Fuck. What an escape.

* * *

The Rikkai regulars had lately found themselves at a loss during lunchtimes.

Before, the 'Big Three' had always sat together, while the rest of them- boys and girls- had sat with their own various groups. Of course, being regulars made them a little closer- common goals, sweat, blood and a few tears did bring people together, after all- which meant that over time, and particularly during the tennis season, the girls eventually coalesced into a single large group.

Lunch was a really good time to plan how best to decimate other teams.

Then the boys began to join them. People liked to think it was because of Sanada and Sakura, but in reality, it began with Akaya and his inability to take a hint. After a while, the ladies stopped dropping hints, because honestly, he was kinda sweet. Obnoxious, but sweet.

" _Kinda grows on you, doesn't he?" Sumiko remarked, grinning at the second year girls' loud disagreement with the boys' little ace. "Like mold. You spend three weeks trying to get it off, and then BAM! You're attached."_

 _Sakura agreed with the first part. Regarding the weirdness of getting attached to mold- some things were just best left alone._

The full-scale invasion of the girls' table- well, that was definitely because of Sakura and Sanada. Sakura once said- only half-joking- that the 'Three Demons' were like a package deal. And if Sanada joined his girlfriend at her table, so would Yukimura and Yanagi.

It had been what Akari called a 'tennis whirlpool'. In time, it sucked in Jackal- much to Sumiko's delight- Yagyuu- whose politeness caused no end of blushes among the younger lot- Marui- who brought the _best_ sweets and was everybody's favourite, hands down- and even, occasionally, Niou- much to Sakura's dismay, because Sumiko had begun eyeing him with a wicked glint in her eye that was the very definition of _trouble_. And Niou couldn't resist trouble.

But it was great- Niou and Sumiko had had a two-week fling, followed by a one-week prank war that only ended because Niou had some vestige of respect for Yukimura, and Sakura had known Sumiko long enough to circumvent her best– read: worst– plans. Sanada's fury at Niou had abated after hours of cajoling and suggestive kisses from Sakura, and the lunch table was no longer a biohazard zone.

But this… even Yukimura couldn't snap his fingers and make all this go away.

Sanada was edgy, snappish, and ragged around the edges. Akaya picked at his food, having elected to sit with his classmates since the one disastrous lunch after the breakup. Jackal was in class, preferring to eat while finishing homework four days early. Yagyuu and Niou has withdrawn back to the roof. The girls sat in a tight knot, forced cheer on each face in an effort to ignore the absence of the two senior-most players.

Sakura and Sumiko had taken to eating out near the football field. It was as far from the cafeteria as they could get.

Akari stabbed at her food moodily. This last month, Kirihara's absence had really been grating on her nerves. The boy was an idiot, but he was a smart idiot, and he kept good company too. This whole shitshow- had they really been comfortable with each other only because two of their number had been in the throes of a star-crossed love affair?- was… well, a shitshow.

She glanced around at the group- Yui and Yagyuu-senpai were both damn physics nerds; Reina had just begun learning how to bake, and Marui-senpai was a godsend; Chiho-senpai and Kuwahara-senpai were triathlon-loving freakshows; Nao-chan's serious formality had suited Yukimura-senpai, for whatever weird reason; Hanabi-chan and Yanagi-senpai both enjoyed Sudoku; Sumiko-fukubuchou and Kuwahara-senpai's weird friendly sniping was only out-weirded by her disastrous (for everyone else!) affair with Niou-senpai, who seemed to enjoy making her, Akari, blush way too much (he was devastatingly gorgeous, but anyone that Sumiko-fukubuchou liked enough to sleep with was probably too much for Akari to handle).

And Sanada-senpai had been a little distant- or too focused on Sakura-buchou, which was more likely- but anyone that Sakura-buchou liked enough to sleep with was okay in Akari's book. The captain wasn't an idiot, and had a lower tolerance for bullshit than anyone else on the team. So Sanada was okay, and he did kendo, apparently. He was good people.

So, the bottom line was, Akari wasn't ready to believe that they'd all been uncomfortably thrown together because of the aforementioned affair. They'd had something good. Something important, even.

Fuck this.

She stood, and strode over to Kirihara's table. He glanced up as she came to a halt right beside him. "Yo, Kirihara."

"Hey, Aka-chan." He regarded her lazily, but with a new wariness in his eyes. Akari simmered. "You need something?"

"Yeah, you." Okay, that could probably have been worded better. His friends sniggered. Akari ignored the flush rising in both their cheeks. "You used to like sitting with us, what gives?"

To his credit, Kirihara didn't quail. "After Kagawa-senpai and Sanada-fukubuchou broke up, I thought we'd all decided that wasn't the best idea." He said carefully.

Akari scoffed, glad he was actually responding. With actual words. "Bullshit. No one decided anything." Except by a collective, tacit agreement. "Whatever. I call bullshit." She repeated. "Look, come sit with us tomorrow, alright? Bring the others if you can. But be there. And don't fuck it up."

Something she said must have permeated into his brain. Well, she'd best leave before _she_ fucked it up. "Okay." The actual awkwardness of her appearance seemed to dawn on her; she glanced around at his friends, shuffled her feet. All of them pretended, pretty pointlessly, that they weren't paying attention to the conversation.

Kirihara watched her growing discomfort with a smirk. She scowled. "See ya." Spinning around, she stalked back to the table she'd left.

The boy in question watched as Nao leaned in, undoubtedly to ask. As Akari spoke, the body language of some of the girls changed- hesitant, but positive. Good. That was good.

Yukimura took note of the defiance in Akari's spine as she stared down the ones who looked unhappy. Interesting girl, that. Kagawa should probably keep an eye on her- although knowing her, she probably was.

He had no need to see if Renji was observing as well, for nothing escaped the data master.

His eyes flickered to the third person at their table. The teams coming back together would be painful for him, especially if Kagawa decided to join them. For his part, Yukimura liked the girls, even if they were a little less ambitious than he thought Rikkai athletes should be.

He supposed he should feel more animosity towards Kagawa, having been Sanada's friend since before junior high. But then, Yukimura had never really liked the relationship- it had seemed unequal, somehow, Sanada caring far, far more for Kagawa than she did for him. Oh, that she _did_ care, there was no denying; there was no mistaking the affection with which she regarded him when she wasn't looking- but nothing compared to the deep, consuming feelings that Sanada had harboured for her.

Yukimura had tried dropping hints- had tried to increase Kagawa's affection by placing subtle limits on the time the pair spent together- had even risked his friendship with Sanada in the worst possible way by confronting him with the truth. But nothing had worked, and in the end, it had all come crashing down, as Yukimura had known it would. Kagawa had walked away, while Sanada was still picking himself up.

Still, a month had made some small difference. Sanada no longer took extra-long showers; his mild abuses of authority had stopped completely (although the reserves were beginning to put on a little weight since then); he no longer looked over at the girls' courts- or at least not every time Kagawa's voice rang out, sometimes sharp, sometimes appreciative. Now, he refused to talk about Kagawa at all, and the team refrained from pushing. But he was still dragging his feet, preferring to wallow while keeping up appearances. If he didn't snap out of it soon, Yukimura would have to intervene.

* * *

"Damn it, Akari, I said _the fucking corner_!" Sakura roared, feeding the girl another ball. This time, the junior slammed it unerringly to the very tip of the doubles court- right on the white paint.

"That's better. Again!" Sakura served, harder. Akari's eyes, black like her hair, were hard as polished jet as she kept her eyes on the ball. With a yell, she swung her racket.

 _BAM_. Perfectly on the first mark.

"Again!"

BAM.

"Again!"

BAM

BAM

BAM

"Not bad." Sakura nodded, gesturing to the first years to pick up the balls. "You've improved."

"Thank you, captain." Akari replied politely. Sakura eyed her for a moment, and sighed. "I'm sorry for swearing. You weren't as bad as that."

This time, she was pleased to see the slight stiffness melt out of the girl's shoulders. "That's alright, captain."

Sakura nodded, smiling. Stepping back, she raised her voice. "Alright, everyone, rackets down! 30 laps, and follow up with the regular cool-down routine." There was a great flurry of movement as the forty or so girls placed their rackets on the benches and filed quickly out of the courts.

As expected, the regulars were right up front. Sumiko and Akari had incredible stamina, and Sakura joined them, falling into the rhythm. "Keep up, everyone!" She called.

Nothing could prepare one for the challenges of being Rikkai's captain, Sakura thought. Her middle school years had been spent at Seigaku, a school which advocated a very different style of captaincy.

Tezuka Kunimitsu had been one of the best players in the junior high circuit, and had even received offers from professional scouts and coaches by the time he was in high school. But he never allowed his brilliance to cast other players into the shade; indeed, no one in Seigaku had batted an eye when Echizen Ryoma had played Singles One in the Nationals games against Hyotei and Rikkai.

Such a thing was unthinkable at Rikkai. The captain was _the best_ ; every year, the best player, regardless of real-life leadership skills, was appointed the captain, and it was their playing skill that acted as the charisma for the rest of the team. Sakura had seen Tezuka lead by charisma as well as skill; at Rikkai, the captain's skill _was_ the charisma.

And so Sakura increased her speed, keeping a step ahead of the rest of the girls. "Twenty rounds left!" She called, looking over her shoulder–

–and crashed headlong into someone running full-tilt in the opposite direction.

Being lighter, Sakura tumbled backwards, the other person landing squarely on her.

The last thing she heard before her head smacked the concrete was Sumiko's panicked yell.

* * *

 **Ouch, that must have hurt! Stay tuned to find out more!**

 **Love,  
Chilli.**


	4. Incoming

**After the End**

 **Chapter four**

 **Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, with no copyright infringement intended. I don't own PoT, which belongs to Takeshi Konomi.**

* * *

The girls' courts were in an uproar, and it was bothering Yukimura. **  
**

Kagawa needed to keep those girls on a tighter leash. Indiscipline might have been indulged in Seigaku, but Rikkai tolerated none of it.

The noise was distracting some of his team as well- Akaya looked concerned, even as he sent the ball unerringly to the corner; he kept glancing in the direction of the girls' courts. Yagyuu adjusted his glasses for a fraction of a second longer. Marui and Jackal exchanged a look. Sanada's fingers were clenched around his racquet.

Sighing, Yukimura decided to go and investigate. "Renji." He commanded, and Yanagi was at his side almost before the second syllable. Taking Genichirou… _there_ … would be a Bad Idea.

They didn't even get as far as the court gates, though; a gaggle of girls, led by a boy and a panicking Sumiko, rushed past them.

And cradled in the boy's arms, seemingly unconscious–

Sanada's racquet clattered to the ground, unheeded.

"Shit, Kagawa-senpai?" Akaya muttered, taking in the procession. "What the hell happened?"

Yukimura felt a tendril of worry curl around his chest. Surely it wasn't serious…?

He eyed the veins popping in Sanada's fisted hands. Took in the desperation in his eyes. His face might be like marble, but Sanada was one of the most expressive people Yukimura knew.

How little a month could change.

* * *

Hissing. Things were hissing around her.

And her head was smarting something _awful_.

"… _not waking up, sensei, are you_ sure _she's okay?_ "

Oh, Sumi. Her worrywart, overprotective best friend. A corner of Sakura's mouth twitched.

" _Sensei, I think she's waking up!"_

Now that wasn't anyone she knew; that was a boy, but it sure as hell wasn't Genichirou… who else was close enough to stay with her in the infirmary?

Speaking of which, Sakura hoped Sumiko had sent the rest of the team back to practice. Chiho could oversee practice… They may be Kantou champions, but the Nationals were around the corner, and nothing less than victory would do…

"Kagawa-chan? Kagawa-chan, can you hear me?"

"Hnng." She grunted– tiny movements, so as not to aggravate that accursed ache– and cracked an eye open.

Light, tangible as a bolt, lanced through her brain. Sakura clamped her eyes shut again with a whimper.

"Akitaka-chan, turn off the tubelight." Nurse Abe's voice was so nice and soothing… Sakura wanted to curl up and sleep.

The snap of a switch, and the bright red of her inner eyelids became a little duller.

"Kagawa-chan, the lights are off. You can open your eyes now… slowly."

She didn't want to. She wanted to stay here and rest… but she obeyed anyway.

Her eyelids felt extraordinarily heavy, and her head was throbbing, but the relief on Sumiko's face made her smile.

"…Yo."

"Look at me, Kagawa-chan." She turned to Nurse Abe. "Good, now follow my finger, please."

It felt silly, but Sakura did it anyway.

"Okay, you're tracking fine. No concussion. Just take it easy for two days- no tennis, please." Nurse shouted down her bubbling protests with a stern look.

"Fine…" She mumbled, trying to sit up. Both Sumi's and Nurse's arms went around her, which– come on. She wasn't an invalid.

But she kept up a pleasant expression, thanking them both. Managed not to grit her teeth as Nurse wrapped a bandage about her head.

"Quite a fashion statement." Sumiko nudged her, and Sakura rolled her eyes in response. That was when she finally noticed the other occupant in the room.

"Suzuki-kun?" She frowned, confused. Why the captain of the soccer team was here, and for _her_ , apparently, was beyond her.

He stepped forward, as though to approach her, but then his eyes flickered to Sumiko, and he stayed where he was. "You feelin' okay?" He enquired. "How's the head?"

His concern was puzzling, but she did appreciate it. "My head feels like it was thrown against a wall, but I've had worse." She replied, giving him a small smile. "Are you waiting to see Nurse?"

Sumiko snorted derisively; Sakura looked at her, then back at Suzuki, who was shuffling his feet. "Not really." He muttered. "But didn't seem right to leave before you woke up."

Eh? That wasn't– _oh_.

She leaned back, allowing Nurse to tie off the ends of the bandage. The grin that she gave Suzuki was, admittedly, little sharp. "So _you_ were the wall, huh?"

He looked guilty. Okay, she probably shouldn't poke at that. He was obviously feeling bad enough as it was.

Although her throbbing head was telling her something different.

"Hey, Kagawa, I'm sorry. Really," And if it was possible to look even _more_ guilty, he did. "I was in a hurry an' all, but _shit,_ you got pretty badly hurt, an' I'm really, really sorry about it."

Aww. Even she couldn't resist that.

She rose to her feet, Sumiko's hand hovering protectively at her elbow. "It's okay, Suzuki-kun. Told you, I've had worse." She smiled at him, and received a tentative one in return. "Just forget it, okay?"

He regarded her closely for a second, and something seemed to slot in place in his eyes. His smile widened.

Good, now that was settled. "Sumi, is Chiho overseeing practice?"

* * *

Akari wasn't surprised to see Kirihara's rumpled figure outside the infirmary, but she hadn't exactly expected it either.

"Yo, Kirihara." She smiled tightly at him. "Worried?"

"Takin' a break." He demurred. She repressed a snort. As if she didn't notice his eyes flicking to the door every five seconds.

Whatever. Not her business, as long as he didn't raise a ruckus. The rest of the team was busy practising; she probably couldn't shut him up on her own.

"What happened?" He enquired, after silent minutes ticked by. Akari swallowed. "We were running laps… and this guy came around the corner when she was looking back at us. Captain's always right up front, so she didn't even see him coming, until…" She let out a shuddering breath. "They fell, but she hit her head. She just… she was out like a light, y'know? Just- bam. Knocked cold on the spot. Fukubuchou and that guy brought her over post-haste."

"And here you are." He finished gravely. Her cheeks were very pale. Her eyes were glistening. Her world had probably tilted a couple of degrees to the left.

He remembered the feeling.

"Hey," Kirihara almost placed a hand on her head, before remembering that this was _Akari_. She'd probably break his fingers. "Kagawa-senpai's too badass to be seriously injured from a fall like that."

"Wasn't Yukimura-senpai badass too?"

The soft question rocketed through his gut like a bullet. For a second, Kirihara was back on that damned platform, a careless kid surrounded by his senpais. And his captain- his badass, graceful, brilliant 'Mura-buchou- was falling.

"Sorry." Akari's apologetic tone shook him back to the present. "It's not the same thing, I know. It's just… I'm scared. It's Sakura-buchou, y'know?"

Yeah, he knew. Intimately.

"So…" Akari, surprisingly, was side-eyeing him speculatively. "Did Sanada-senpai send you?"

Yeah, she could see that Sanada-senpai wasn't even close to over Sakura-buchou. She was short, not _blind_.

Kirihara didn't bother to repress his snort. "You kiddin'? He doesn't even mention Kagawa-senpai's name anymore." Hell, he acted like the entire fucking girls' team didn't exist. "They're all pretty worried, though. It looked bad, lemme tell ya."

"It looked worse than it actually is, Kirihara-kun." The two juniors leapt to their feet as their seniors- and the cause for this whole mishap- pushed out of the infirmary.

"Captain! You're okay!" Akari breathed, immeasurably relieved. Sakura shot her a small smile. "Yeah, it's not too bad. But Akari," Her eyes became gimlets, boring into the girl. "Shouldn't you be at practice? I believe Chiho's overseeing the cooldowns."

"Ah- that is-"

"Twenty extra laps tomorrow morning." Sakura's tone brooked no argument.

Akari's eyes were on the ground. "Yes, captain." She murmured, before turning away. Her shoulders were slumped as she walked back to the courts.

"She was just worried for you!" Kirihara couldn't believe his eyes. "You didn't have to–"

"Thank you, Kirihara-kun, but I don't remember asking for your opinion." Sakura cut him off. "I suggest you get back too; I doubt Yukimura allows such extended breaks." She smiled coldly.

She raised an eyebrow as the boy glared at her for another second.

As he walked away, she turned to Suzuki. "Hey, Incoming, don't just run around our courts, alright?" The cold smile became something marginally more playful. "Or next time you'll have ten girls on _you_."

"Noted." He replied dryly. "You take care, Kagawa." His gaze shifted to the still-glowering vice-captain. "Takahashi."

"Suzuki." Ah, that girl would be holding a grudge, alright.

"Really, Sumi," Sakura chided her as soon as Suzuki was out of earshot. "It was an accident, there's no need to be so… _vitriolic_."

Sumiko expressed her feelings with a loud snort.

"Kagawa." Yukimura stepped out of the boys' court as they passed. "Akaya filled me in. How serious is it?"

"He didn't waste time, huh…" Sakura grinned wryly. "Not too bad. Gotta take it easy for a couple of days, but I'll be fit by Thursday."

"Good." He nodded once, satisfied. But then, an expression she didn't quite like entered his eyes. "Was that Suzuki Ryou I saw earlier? Akaya tells me he caused the accident."

Sakura's hackles rose, but she managed to keep her voice pleasant. "Actually, I was the one who wasn't looking where I was going–"

"–Is what you were going to say, right?"

Okay, what the hell. "Yanagi, _what_ have I said about doing that?" Sakura demanded. "And what are you, freakin' Avengers? Accidents happen!"

"Perhaps they shouldn't, then." Yukimura mused. Sakura rolled her eyes. "Look, I appreciate this and all, but leave him alone. Seriously."

"We won't do anything to him, Kagawa, don't worry." Yanagi assured her.

"Somehow I don't feel reassured."

"Well, he really should learn to be more careful, shouldn't he?"

Right, this was getting out of hand. "Yukimura." Sakura addressed the captain flatly. "Mind your own damn business– and tell your club to mind theirs."

Glaring at her _infuriating_ fellow captain, Sakura strode off in a huff.

* * *

See, Sakura didn't exactly _like_ Yukimura.

She respected him, obviously. He was an incredible tennis player, a charismatic captain, and had kicked a life-threatening neurological disorder in the teeth. His grades were great, as well. And he was always, _always_ unfailingly courteous and polite and helpful. In short, he was a walking, talking Mary Sue- right down to the swoon-worthy looks.

(Objectively speaking. But not really her type at all)

Perhaps it wasn't a matter of like or dislike. It was wariness.

Sakura was very, _very_ wary of trusting Yukimura. Ie, she didn't. And it seemed to be mutual.

Sakura could be a hard-ass, sure, but she wasn't inhuman. She didn't use her teammates- more accurately, she saw them as people. Not as the means to an end.

Maybe she was wrong, and it definitely wasn't her business, but Rikkai's captain hadn't left a very good impression on her back in middle school.

There was something profoundly unethical, after all, about encouraging a boy to devolve into the so-called 'Demon Mode'– Sakura had suspected it was more like a form of dissociative identity disorder, or schizophrenia. Definitely some kind of mental instability. And for what? A game?!

She was aware that they had all been complicit in it, including Genichirou, but there was something so self-righteous about Yukimura. As if exploiting the illness of a boy who idolised him had been _necessary_.

Genichirou had admitted to her that later, after watching Kirihara blossom under Shiraishi's influence, he had begun to realise what a dangerous thing they'd been playing with. The boy's _mind._

He hadn't even played tennis in his first year of high school, she remembered. A year for treatment and therapy– and what a difference it had made, Genichirou had said. What a player he'd become.

Yanagi had realised their mistake earlier than him; it had been he who had entrusted Kirihara to Shiraishi, after all. But Yukimura… he didn't… he didn't seem to _care_.

And Sakura wasn't stupid. She knew that, for whatever reason, Yukimura hadn't been happy about her and Genichirou. That was okay; she wasn't particularly concerned about his approval.

But…

This was a boy she'd come to realise was _beautifully_ unscrupulous. Someone she was already wary of. And the knowledge that he didn't like her relationship… it made her a little paranoid.

Every time Genichirou had been late for a date, or had cancelled at the last minute citing 'club duties'– she had wondered: is this Yukimura talking? Is _this_ Yukimura?

God, and the two of them had suffered for it, hadn't they? At least they wouldn't now.

Yukimura had his precious vice-captain back, and she had nothing to be paranoid about.

Except, maybe Suzuki-kun being in one piece tomorrow. And making Akari some appreciation cupcakes.

(Sigh)

Her head was aching.

* * *

 **Well, a tiny bit of plot, a little bit more introspection. And Sakura's okay! Yay!  
Reviews are love!  
Cheers,  
Chilli.**


End file.
